


WidowTracer Fluff

by rainydayworks



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Break from the angst, Different AUs, F/F, Fluff, some smut too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2018-07-20 02:38:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7387246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainydayworks/pseuds/rainydayworks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of short(ish) WidowTracer fluff, giving people a break from reading really angsty stuff.  I broke, had to get that smutty stuff in here ¯\_(ツ)_/¯</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Anchor

Widow awoke with a start, her normal snail’s pace heartbeat picking up a few notches. The French woman sat up in bed, soft sheets slipping from her torso and pooling in her lap as her hand reached up and planted itself firmly on her chest. Taking a small breath as she tried to steady herself once more. She hated when she dreamt of him, a man she could only remember in her dreams. Her eyes slid shut as she tried to shake the remaining ghost of her dream away from her now alert mind, her fingers curled into the fabric of the shirt she was wearing to try to anchor herself. 

A soft shuffling beside her made her eyes flutter open and her head snap quickly to where the noise originated, her conditioning making her even more alert than before. Her eyes landed on the peaceful face of the spunky Brit known as Tracer, her body calmed and a small smile landed on her purple lips. The brunette curled into a small ball and made a noise that portrayed slight discomfort, Widow looked down at her body and noticed that most of the sheets were pulled away from her. 

She laughed silently and laid back down, facing Tracer as she laid the sheets back on her once more. Once that was done she wrapped an arm around the other woman’s waist and pulled her close, trying to offer any kind of body heat she might give off. “Désolé ma chérie.” She planted a soft kiss to the smaller woman’s forehead, Tracer grumbled lazily and wrapped her arms around Widow’s waist. Her eyes slowly opening, she blinked a few times before looking up at her lover.

Her eyes groggily focused on the French woman, brow furrowing as she tried to concentrate. “Amélie? What are you doing awake?” The sleepy and surly roll in Tracer’s voice made Widow smile, answering back with a small purr “Just had a bad dream is all, nothing to worry about.” Tracer furrowed her brow even more, her fingers slowly curling into Widow’s lower back. Her head tilted slowly to the side, resting back into the pillow but curiosity remained etched on her face. Widow shifted under her gaze, she didn't like to be searched and with Tracer she felt more open than with anyone else.

Sudden but small realization lit on the Brit’s face, she shifted forward and craned her neck up enough so that she could plant a chaste kiss to the French woman’s lips. Widow pressed into the kiss, reveling in the new anchor that was the rough, chapped lips of her lover. Once Tracer pulled away she rested her forehead tenderly to the other woman’s, one of her hands trailing up her back before slowly curling her fingers into silky purple hair. Widow took in a small breath, closing her eyes as she wrapped her arms a little more firmly around Tracer’s waist. 

They laid tangled together for just a few seconds in silence before Tracer spoke up “I’m here for you Amélie, you know that right?” Widow let out a small chuckle, pulling her head back so she could look down at the smaller girl in her arms. Tracer’s hand moving from the back of her head and resting lightly on her jaw, a thumb soothingly brushing along her cheek. Almond colored eyes focused on her golden ones, she stared back, feeling the love behind them. She gave a small nod, kissing Tracer’s nose lightly “Of course I do Lena, and I won’t forget that.” 

A smile grew on Tracer’s face, giving a giggle before nuzzling into Widow’s neck, her arms wrapping themselves around the woman’s slim waist once more. She gave a soft kiss to the crook of Widow’s neck before closing her eyes and relaxing again. “Good, now let’s go back to sleep. I’m bloody exhausted.”


	2. Not Unusual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mmm, why have I done this.

Lena zipped up to her apartment’s door, rubbing the back of her neck and letting out a small tired huff. Her day had been long, she spent hours with Winston working on some maintenance at the new headquarters and then there was this “company” baseball game that mostly consisted of Zarya breaking bats each time she either pitched or batted and Reinhardt and Mercy getting unapologetically drunk on a Wednesday. 

Luckily she was now home and was ready for some alone time with her girlfriend, mostly just meaning tv dinners and shitty movies they found on the tv. The Brit popped open the door and entered her apartment, kicking off her shoes and tossing her bag of dirt and grass stained clothes to the side. “Amélie? I’m home!” She called out, glancing around the close vicinity for her. 

Amélie could not be seen, which was odd because normally as soon as Lena arrived home she was greeted with at least a small greeting in French and a kiss on the forehead. Lena stopped in the middle of the small living room and placed her hands on her hips “Where did that woman run off to?” She started to head towards their bedroom before she heard semi muffled music coming from behind the closed door. 

Her brows rose as she placed her ear to the smooth wood of the door, the melody was recognizable but she couldn’t place her finger on it. She took a gentle hold of the door handle, trying to be as quiet as she could as she slowly opened the door a crack. Lena was met with probably the most intriguing and jaw dropping thing she could ever see, and she was a damn Overwatch agent for crying out loud.

The blue woman was dancing, or more over doing a small shuffle type thing, along to the unmistakeable song It’s Not Unusual. Yes, Lena could hear it more easily, it was that very song. She could almost start laughing right then and there, or even fall on the floor from heart palpitations, she couldn’t decipher which one would happen first. It was a sight to behold, the normally stoic and stone-faced woman was dancing along to one of the cheesiest love songs she could even imagine. It couldn’t get any better.

But it did get better, it got so much better. Suddenly over the deeper voice of Tom Jones, a softer voice rose up, one that Lena had become very familiar with but never expected to hear in a melody. “It’s not unusual to be loved by anyoneee. It’s not unusual to have fun with anyonee.” Lena pressed her hand firmly over her mouth, her cheeks blown out gently as she tried to hold in laughter. She didn’t want to give away her position just yet, she needed to see this for just a bit longer. 

Amélie luckily hadn’t seen her yet, she must have been having too much fun with what she was doing. Now normally Lena would have dashed on in and started to poke fun at anyone if they were singing and dancing along to any song, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not to Amélie, this was a new side of her that she had never seen. She observed the movement of the taller woman’s hips and the way her lips parted each time she opened her mouth to sing along, and the smile. Oh the smile was such a lovely thing to see.

Lena knew this was a very short song though, but luckily she knew it by heart, she had a weird phase when she was younger, only listening to really old love songs. Anyways, she knew the perfect part to step in. “Love will never do, what you want it to..” Amélie belted out, turning towards the bedroom door in her dance. At this moment Lena pushed open the door and finished the line “Why can’t this crazy love be miiiiinneeee!”

Amélie’s eyes went wide and oddly enough her cheeks got a little darker than normal before her eyes narrowed, her expression changing from shock to anger. During the small pause in the song Lena quickly darted over and took a hold of her lover’s hands, smiling up at her and staring into her eyes before continuing “It’s not unusual to be mad with anyone. It’s not unusual to be sad with anyonee.” 

Amélie continued to show anger on the fact that she was interrupted in a state she never wanted anyone to see her in, but intrigue slowly began to rise on her face as Lena started to swing their linked hands in a new odd little dance. Lena continued “But if I ever find that you’ve changed at anytimee. It’s not unusual to find out that I’m in love with you!” The woman trying to carry on the last little bit of the song that was left. 

Now the little Brit’s voice was not as good as the Frenchwoman’s but she could at least carry a melody, her voice cracking slightly at a few of the higher notes. This fact made a small smile land on purple lips, her body starting to move with the slow pace the brunette had started. Once the song was over Amélie let out a laugh, shaking her head and looking down momentarily.

Lena laughed as well, both glad that she could hear her love laugh and that she didn’t get splattered over the wall. “Oh chérie, you have such a way with words.” Amélie purred, tugging the younger woman a little closer so she could wrap her arms around her neck. The brunette smiled, placing her hands lightly on the woman’s waist “Why of course, I do love. You think I was just a pretty face?” 

Amélie smiled wider, leaning down and pecking Lena’s forehead. “Mm, un peu…” The Brit got a little flustered and huffed, knitting her brow. The taller woman laughed again and shook her head “I was just joking with you, ma chérie.” Lena leaned up and gave the woman a short kiss, giving her hips a squeeze “You’re so mean to me love.” 

Both women giggled before they both turned their heads back towards the laptop that had been playing the music, the song had started over again. Lena laughed and looked up at Amélie “Love, how long have you been listening to this song?” 

The older woman seemed to grow a little flustered before she muttered something under her breath, Lena shook her head and smiled, pulling her lover closer and starting to slowly move with her “Oi, I wasn’t complaining. C’mon let’s dance.” The French woman looked back at the smaller girl and smiled, nodding slightly as she moved along. “Oui, laissez-nous la danse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> un peu- a little bit
> 
> Oui, laissez-nous la danse.- Yes, let us dance.


	3. Formal-ish?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Widow drags Tracer to a formal business party, afterwards they get takeout and eat it in their formal wear. Yup.

“Amélieeeeeeeeee, do we really need to go to this thing?” The cockney accent rose over the soft music that was playing off the sound system, Widowmaker’s eyes darted to where she saw a figure appear in the semi open door. A laugh gently rolled off her lips as she turned away from the her previous activity, placing down the tube of mascara she had in hand. Wearing a simple peach colored robe having previously being in the shower, semi damp hair tied up. Her eyes gave the small Brit a quick look over, legs crossed idly “Oui ma chérie, it’s an important business dinner.”

A loud groan came from Tracer as she walked into the room, landing on the bed face down. The woman still wasn’t dressed, still in a baggy t-shirt and a pair of plain boxers. Widow stood and walked over to the bed, sitting down beside her girlfriend and resting her hand on the back of her head. Running her fingers through soft but messy chestnut hair, an appreciative noise rose from Tracer’s throat. Almost like when a cat is touched unexpectedly, Widow smiled wide and leaned down to press her lips to the back Tracer’s neck. The brunette rolled onto her back and looked up at the taller woman, reaching to take a hold of her hand, intertwining their fingers.

“But it’s gonna be so boring.” Tracer whispered, like a child whispering a secret. She brought slim fingers to her lips and started to kiss them, moving her lips to the back of Widow’s hand and to her palm as well. “Lena, if you get ready right now. We won’t stay for all of it.” Tracer sat up quickly, the Frenchwoman’s hand still grasped tightly in her own “Does that mean we could go for a cheeky nandos?” Widow’s face showed confusment, brow furrowed with her lower lip pouted out. “Ehhh, I’m gonna guess that’s a no.. Oh well, we could just get takeout!”

Widow nodded and gave Tracer’s head a pet “Of course we could, mon amour.” Both women smiled, Tracer standing up and darting to the closet beginning to dig for her suit. While she was doing that Widow stood up from the bed and walked back to the vanity where she was just before, resuming the light layering of makeup she was already working on. Every few moments her eyes would dart to Tracer’s reflection, watching as she pulled off her t-shirt and pulled on a white button up. Just observing the process the brunette was taking to get ready, a content smile on her newly glossed lips.

Once she was done, she stood and walked to the slim and long navy blue dress that was hanging up. She let the robe fall away before taking a hold of the dress and pulling it up to her shoulders, slipping her arms into the simple straps. By this time Tracer was done putting on her own attire, turning to watch Widow get ready. It was always fun for her to watch, making small observations and new discoveries each time she did. The soft fabric of the dress hugged the woman’s body perfectly, the navy color mixing well with the hue of her skin. The Frenchwoman turned and looked herself over in the mirror, flattening out the few wrinkles in the fabric.

Tracer blinked up behind her hand took a hold of the open zipper, giving the cool blue skin of the woman’s shoulder a light peck as she zipped up the back of the dress. Resting her forehead on the shoulder once she was done, smiling at Widow in their reflection “You look amazing love, I swear with the color of this dress it almost looks like you’ve got a whole little galaxy on yah.” Widow laughed and reached back, resting her hand tenderly on Tracer’s jaw “A galaxy, hm?” The shorter woman nodded and nuzzled into her hand, wrapping her arms around her slim waist and giving a soft squeeze.

Widow observed their reflection, the strong contrast between her blueish skin and the peachy color of Tracer’s sometimes was a shock but most times was something that just matched their relationship and personalities just right. The content smile, sparse freckles and warm almond colored eyes that were staring into the mirror as well could steal her breath away at times. She glanced over the brunette’s outfit, she wore that suit well. It was a little baggy in some places but other than that fit her very well, there was something missing though.

“Chérie, where is your tie?” Tracer lifted her head and looked down at her chest before looking back up at Widow “Oh uh, forgot it..” She slipped away and walked back to the closet, searching around once more before finding a basic red tie. Widow sat at her vanity once more and began to work on her hair while Tracer secretly struggled with the tie behind her. As Widow began to put her hair into a simple braid, Tracer sat back on the bed and frowned down at the messy knot that was resting on her chest, giving it a few sharp tugs. “Oh screw this bloody thing! Love do I really have to wear this?”

The Frenchwoman glanced up from her hair, looking at the mess of a tie. A loud laugh came from her, she turned on the stool she was stationed on and placed her braid behind her back. Lifting her hands and making a beckoning motion with them “Viens ici, mon trésor. Let me fix it.” Tracer stood with a defeated huff and walked to her, stuffing her hands in her pockets as Widow took to quick work with the tie, soon having it in tidy order. The brunette removed a hand from her pocket and ran it through her cowlick crazy hair “Ah, thanks love. You always know how to fix things.”

A smile grew on purple lips before a sharp tug on the tie brought Tracer down to Widow’s face. A small surprised squeak was muffled as Widow pressed her lips firmly to Tracer’s, once she finally pulled away the Brit stood upright. Looking fairly frazzled and with a light flush to her cheeks, she shook her head to clear her mind before looking down at the other woman with an angry huff “Oh c’mon! You can’t just pull that on me without a warning love!” Widow stood and wiped her bottom lip to get rid of the bit of gloss that had smudged, smiling down at Tracer “I’ll keep that in mind maybe. Come now, it’s going to start in about a half hour.”

 

 The two strolled out of the large dining hall at around ten thirty, Widow dragging Tracer on heavy feet. Grinning and waving goodbye to any of the other people that were still at the place, Tracer let out a groan as they got back to their car, resting her head back into the passenger seat’s headrest. Her head rolling to the side to watch Widow climb into the driver’s side, “We were there for almost seven full hours. You said we wouldn’t be there for long.” Widow waved a finger as she started up the car and pulled away “Non, I said we wouldn’t stay for all of it. But, I did promise you take out.”

Tracer pepped up in the seat, her smile widening as she basically bounced in her seat. Widow gave a smile as she smoothly drove down the street, resting back. “What do you want to eat ma chérie?” Tracer slowly leaned over, tilting her head to the side. A wide, sly grin on her face “If I said you, would I get it?” Her question was answered with a hard punch to her upper arm, she sat up and rubbed at her arm “Owww, hey I was just messin with yah! Jeez.. lighten up love..” Widow gave a smirk and took a hold of Tracer’s hand, giving it a squeeze “You need to start getting familiarized with how I work cherie.” Her eyes remaining glued to the road, Tracer grumbled and brought their hands to her lips, kissing the back of Widow’s gently. “Fine fine.. Um, curry sounds good right now. So Indian?”

Widow nodded, making a turn “That sounds fine by me ma cherie.” Luckily there were quite a few places still open so they turned into a parking lot and went in to get their food. They arrived home with their takeout at around eleven, Tracer loosening her tie with a sigh. Widow planted herself on the old worn out couch in the living room and the brunette followed suit, crossing her legs underneath her and switching on the tv.

Tracer turned to her food with ravenous excitement and had her whole meal downed before Widow had more than half of hers done. The Brit swiveled on the couch and laid her head down on Widow’s lap, stretching out with a content groan. Her hands resting on her stomach “Ah, that really hit the spot love. Thank you.” Widow placed her tin tray on the coffee table stationed in front of the couch, resting a hand on Tracer’s head “Oui, that was filling.” Tracer glanced at the half full tin “But you didn’t even finish your food..” She was cut short with a yank of her tie, looking back up into golden eyes. A wide smirk planted on her lover’s face before a low growl slipped past purple lips “Hm, now what was that comment you made earlier.. About wanting to eat me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Viens ici, mon trésor- Come here, my treasure.


	4. Afterwards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annnd the follow up to the last chapter! Whoops it got smutty.

_ “Hm, now what was that comment you made earlier...about wanting to eat me?” _

Tracer’s ears burned with flush, a nervous giggle bubbled into her throat. She licked her lips and tried to sit up, but a hand planted firmly to her chest kept her on her back. “I-I uh.. I'm a bit too full at the moment love..” She watched a perfect brow arch and a slow grin broke out on Widow’s face, the hand on Tracer’s chest slowly beginning to drag it's way downward. “Well, I'm still hungry.” Widow purred, her forefinger running down the line of small buttons on the Brit’s shirt before stopping just at the button on the pair of dress pants. Her hand dipped a little further and tenderly cupped the smaller woman’s crotch.

A low whine formed in Tracer’s throat, her flush darkening a little more. She cleared her throat and chewed on her cheek before speaking “W-Well...I could..use a little dessert.” Widow smiled deviously as she slowly began to rub along the other woman’s crotch, placing slight pressure from time to time. Another whine came from the woman in her lap, her hips pressing up against the pale blue hand for more pressure. The grip on the red tie tightened, receiving another gentle tug. One of Tracer’s hands grabbed weakly at her arm, a hiss rising from her throat. “Hands down, relax a little chérie.” 

The brunette obeyed and placed her hands back at her sides, a soft grumble coming from her. Widow perked a brow and began to unbutton the girl’s pants, taking as much time as she wanted. Her thumb gently laying on the zipper and beginning to pull it down slowly. Tracer twitched, her hips trying to shift to try and help the process along. An annoyed growl pushed pass Tracer’s lips, “C’mon love! Stop being a bloody tease!” A sharp tug to the tie made her shut her mouth, hard golden eyes stared down at her. “That is not teasing chérie. I can be much worse. If you keep interrupting me you’'ll go to bed without dessert.” Her voice was sharp like a knife and Tracer knew she would keep her promise. 

She remained quiet, looking away from the eyes that could kill a man with a single stare. Widow nodded and let go of the tie, gently curling her fingers into the Brit’s hair. A soft noise of appreciation came from the other woman, pressing her head up into her hand “That’s my good girl.” Widow purred, her other hand slowly slipping past the fabric of the pants before sliding under the waistband of the brunette’s boxers. Her fingers met coarse and curly hair before brushing further, Tracer’s legs slowly fell apart. Eyelids sliding shut as she settled against the cool fingers against her, hips shifting slightly until she was in a fairly comfortable position.

Once all settled Widow began to explore, she already knew Tracer’s body. They sometimes spent hours just tracing over every curve of each other, either with fingertips or lips. But she always enjoyed taking her time, refamiliarizing herself with the terrain of her lover’s body as much as she could. A soft sigh caught her attention, her eyes moving from her hand to the Brit’s face. Her finger made a slow circle right above Tracer’s clit, just before pressing down on the tender bud. Another sigh arose and she felt the woman’s hips lift against her finger, begging for more pressure more pleasure. Widow smiled and began to rub slowly, making small tight circles before pressing down firmly on the hardening nub. 

Tracer let out small sighs and gentle moans, her fingers twitched and a hand lifted preparing to push on the Frenchwoman’s arm to guide her but she quickly planted it back to her side, remembering the threat made earlier. She let out a needy whine, pushing her hips up and opening her eyes, staring up at the woman above her. Widow tilted her head and smirked, “Oh? Is there something you want ma chérie?” Tracer swallowed hard, her flush darkening another shade before she answered “C-Could you.. Um..” She let out a short hiss of pleasure as she felt the cool finger slip down and press between her lips, remaining just on the outside of her core. “Here? Is this where you want me chérie?” A short quick nod answered her question, a smile remained on Widow's face before she slowly began to push in. Sliding in right to the knuckle, Tracer’s hips bucked and she let out a moan “Oh fuck..”

Something in Widow purred in satisfaction, her finger curling before she began to pull back out. Making the girl in her lap shake gently, a sharp thrust made her almost squeal in pleasure. Widow’s eyes remained glued to the Brit’s face, watching her brow furrow and her mouth gape. She brushed against the textured spot that made Tracer’s body rock, her fingers curling into the couch cushion. “You're so loud Lena, you might wake the neighbors.” As she said this she pressed against the spot once more before slowly dragging her finger back out “F-Fuck the neighbors! Let ‘em hear!” Widow laughed to herself before beginning to push another finger into the little Brit. “Naughty.” She purred, pressing both fingers in right to the knuckle. Making a ‘come here’ motion, her wrist ached from the angling but it wasn’t something that could stop her. She loved watching the girl squirm, seeing what new noises she could coax out. 

Tracer groaned and pushed her head against Widow’s thighs, arching her back. “ _ Ohfuckme..yes.”  _  She moaned out, rocking her hips hard against Widow’s fingers. She felt the familiar coil starting to form in her lower belly, her legs stretching and her grip on the cushion tightening making her knuckles white. Her hips continued to rock, by now Widow had stopped the movement of her fingers. Letting Tracer move as she needed, she did bring her thumb back and pressed the pad of it to the brunette’s gently throbbing clit. With the next rock of her hips she hit against Widow’s thumb, that sent her over the edge. Her hands jolted up and grabbed onto the taller woman’s forearm. A loud moan ripped from her throat as she threw her head back, her orgasm ripped through her like lightning. “F-Fuck Amélie!” 

Widow held her fingers as deep as she could, letting Tracer ride it out over her hand. Cooing gently to her and looking over her face, her hair was plastered to her forehead and freckle covered cheeks, a small sheen of sweat on her skin. She wore lust almost as well as she wore that tux she had on, Widow leaned down and gave the Brit’s lips a soft kiss. Tracer’s hand swung up and pressed down on the back of her head, pressing for a deeper kiss. Widow snapped away shocked, looking down at the girl in her lap. An impish smirk grew on Tracer’s face as she removed her hand from her pants and brought it to her mouth, gently licking the slick from the slim blue fingers. The act made Widow’s cheek go a light flush, Tracer slid off the couch before kneeling in front of the Frenchwoman. Pressing her lips gently to the woman’s knee while her hands slowly slid up from her calves to just where the dress stopped right above her knees, keeping eye contact. 

The Brit began to gently nip and kiss her way up the Frenchwoman’s leg, pushing the soft fabric up her thighs. Widow let out a gentle sigh and relaxed back against the couch, smirking lightly “I thought you were too full chérie..” Tracer smiled and  spread her lover’s legs before giving her inner thigh a bite “I was, but I could really go for something sweet right now.” The bite made Widow take in a sharp breath, a shiver running through her spine. Her hands planted themselves on Tracer’s head, running her fingers through the chestnut hair. Pushing her head back gently, she grinned and tilted her head “I think I might have something for you then. Since you survived my meeting, you've earned it.” 

Tracer smirked before pressing her head back in between the woman’s thighs, gripping the soft flesh. Her tongue making searing lines along cold skin as she licked and bit closer to her goal, her hands following her trail up the outer thigh. Sliding their way up under the dress and grasping onto the waistband of lacy underwear, she let out a huff of satisfaction and tugged on them “Mind liftin yer arse love?” Her question was answered with both a lift of Widow’s hips, a sharp tug to her hair and an annoyed utterance in French. She just let out a laugh and nuzzled into her leg, sliding down the panties. Her eyes met a small wet spot in the fabric which made her ego soar, she tugged the lace down to the woman’s ankles before dipping back in. Widow had lifted one leg out of her panties allowing her to spread them easier, her fingers gliding to the back of Tracer’s head and pulling her closer “Always so slow..” she muttered, impatience laced in her voice. 

A grumble came from the Brit as she grabbed onto her hips and tugged her closer, angling her just right. She looked down at her lover, her thighs shimmering with arousal and clit already tenderly throbbing. Tracer smiled wide before planting a kiss to the thin strip of hair just above the bud, her actions met with a soft coo from above her. Her head tilted down a little further and she pressed another kiss to it, fingers curled tighter into her hair, her lips parting so that the tip of her tongue could gently press against it. 

Widow let out a groan, giving the woman’s hair a tug once again. “ _ Plus vite…”  _ She growled, now she didn't mind a little foreplay but sometimes Tracer took too much time. And as she said before, she was  _ hungry _ . Her voice caught in her throat as she felt the slick muscle run its way down her slit, her head resting back with a satisfied purr as she felt it run back up. Her hips bucking at the flick to her clit before a moan boiled up, the Brit had wrapped her lips around the stiff bundle of nerves and began to suck. “Ah ma chérie, yes just like that.  _ Ohhh.”  _

Her eyes slid shut as she felt the girl push two fingers shyly against her core, her fingers gripping soft hair firmly while Tracer slipped those fingers deep into her cunt. A lewd smacking sound reached her ears as the plush lips lifted away, a whine dripping past her own before the pressure was returned once more. Tracer scissored her fingers open before closing them once more, running the pads of them against muscles that clamped down hard around them. Hips rocked firmly against her lips, softly labored breathing reached her ears, so she pushed in deeper. A sharp tug to her hair should’ve hurt but she couldn’t give a damn at the moment, a soft groan vibrated in her throat. This made Widow’s back arch and her head roll back further, gasping as she pushed her head down harder, grinding her hips up against her face. 

Tracer slowly curled one of the fingers inside of the Frenchwoman and brought them back as slow as she could muster, a bit of payback in her mind. Widow’s body shook with the harsh breath she took in, her blood boiling in her body and a deep ache forming in her stomach. She gave a tug on the Brit’s head, lifting her away “Lena..  _ venez ici..” _ She pulled the woman up and latched her lips to hers, biting down on her bottom lip needily before parting her lips and teasingly licking her flavor off Tracer’s lips. 

The smaller woman had given a surprised squeak as she was pulled away, her cheeks bright red at the suddenness of Widow’s actions, her fingers slowed but a small whine kickstarted them into a firm and quick pace. Her head was held steadily against Widow’s by her hands, palms pressed against her cheeks and fingers curling the best they could into the little flyaways by her ears. She gazed into the heavy lidded ochre eyes that couldn’t seem to separate themselves from her own, felt the sweet yet hot and heavy breath fall on her lips, and the pressure of Widow’s lips ghosting over her own with each moan of her name. Now she wasn’t sure exactly what heaven was like, Mercy might know possibly, but she felt that this was the closest she was going to get without actually dying. 

“God, fuck! Lena!” Tracer was pulled from her daydreaming as she felt Widow cling to her, felt hot and wet muscles clamp down on her fingers in slow pulls, the dull edge of teeth in her skin, and strong legs wrap around her waist. Her free hand took a hold of Widow’s wildly bucking hips, pushing her fingers in a little deeper and placing her lips by her ear “It’s alright love, I’ve got you.” Widow went rigid in her grip with a pleasured sob, her hands gripping hard at the Brit’s dress shirt. After a few moments of them just rocking together, Tracer muttering sweet nothings in Widow’s ear and Widow making all sorts of promises in muffled French, they relaxed. Tracer pulled her fingers out of her lover slowly and Widow laid back against the couch, panting gently. With a smile and quick clean up of her fingers Tracer was sitting in Widow’s lap, beaming up at her and burying her face in her neck. She gave a few soft kisses and nibbles to various patches of purple skin before the Frenchwoman began to weakly pet the back of her head. “ _ Je t’aime _ Amélie.” She purred softly, a small laugh vibrated Widow’s throat before she spoke “ _ Je t’adore, ma petite abeille. _ ” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Je t’adore, ma petite abeille. - I adore you, my small bumblebee.  
> Plus vite - Faster


	5. Temporary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title sounds angsty, but trust me. It's not.

Tracer almost tripped over the threshold of her apartment’s doorway as she dashed inside, a few plastic grocery bags swinging in her hands and making too much noise for Widowmaker’s reading. She looked up from over the edge of her book, placing her thumb in the center of it to keep it up as she placed her head in her other hand. The smaller woman tossed the bags to the floor before bending over to unlace her sneakers, fumbling due to her excited state. 

The Frenchwoman quirked a brow, pursing her lips as she watched. Once Tracer had kicked off her shoes she grabbed one of the bags and dug around in it, grabbing what looked like a plastic covered piece of paper before almost sprinting to the couch where her lover sat. 

“Love! Look what I found at the store!” As she practically shouted this, she held up the item in her hands and flashed it in Widowmaker’s face. The purple-haired woman pulled her head back so that her eyes could actually focus what was being held in front of her, the paper was decorated with fiery skulls, daggers it seemed and other fairly edgy designs. 

She tilted her head and looked up at the eager girl, “You.. found one of Reaper’s sketchbook pages?” Tracer looked dumbfounded, turning the sheet in her hands towards herself. She did let out a small giggle though, “What I.. no. Well, it seems like it..” She shook her head and turned it back towards her girlfriend “No no love! It’s a sheet of temporary tattoos! Like the things you’d stick on yourself as a kid!” 

This time Widowmaker looked confused, tilting her head in her chin “Quoi? Temporary tattoos? Why would anyone get one that’s temporary?” Tracer had an extremely offended look on her face as she pulled the sheet back to her “I.. love, there’s no way you didn’t ever use these as a kid. Everyone I know has used ‘em! “ The taller woman slowly shook her head “Hmm,  désolé  chérie. I’ve never seen anything like that before.” 

The Brit let out a small gasp, slapping the package on the coffee table before grabbing onto Widowmaker’s shoulders “I will bring you to the light love, I promise you this. Let me go grab some scissors..” She blinked away to go and get her supplies, darting around their small shared apartment. The Frenchwoman watched, confusion etched in her brow. 

The brunette came back to the couch with a cup of water, a hand towel and a pair of scissors. As she set them up on the table Widowmaker spoke up “Chérie, didn’t your mother tell you never to run with scissors?” A smile tugged at the corners of her lips, Tracer rolled her eyes as she tore open the plastic packaging around the sheet of tattoos “Oh ha ha, please that was so funny. My sides are killing me.” 

She turned on the couch, scissors and sheet in hand. “Okay, since you’ve never used these before. I’ll do it for yah, give you a little play-by-play. Sound good?” Widowmaker gave a nod, the sheet was thrusted in front of her “Alright! So pick one that you want, and we’ll get started.” She took a hold of it and started to look over the page, “Lena, these designs are horrible. I mean, I can’t even tell if these are supposed to be tribal designs or heavy metal band names.. And look at these skulls. Mon dieu…” 

Tracer stared at Widowmaker, letting out a sigh and pinching the bridge of her nose between her middle and forefinger. “They’re.. Designed for children, love. Please just, pick a design.” Ochre eyes went back to the page, looking rather bored. She tapped a finger on what was apparently supposed to be a spider “I guess this one will do.”

She turned the page towards her lover, showing what she wanted. An amused look came on the Brit’s face “Really? That one? Don’t you already have one like that?” The look Widowmaker gave to the girl was one that could kill a man. Luckily, Tracer was no man and was very used to this look by now due to her usual antics. “Non chérie, mine doesn’t look like it was made by a 5 year old. Will you just stick the thing to me already, s’il vous pla ît?” 

After her question was out, Tracer snatched back the sheet and started to snip out the little design. She held it up, the thing being no bigger than her thumb “Alright, alright. Gimme your hand then.” The blue-skinned woman held up her hand, Tracer peeling off the bit of plastic that covered the tattoo before snatching up the offered hand. She crossed her legs underneath her and placed it sticky side down on her lover’s skin. 

“So, how it goes. You gotta take the little plastic off it and put it design down onto your skin where you want it..” She paused, reaching over with her free hand to dip the hand towel in the cup of water. “Then you take a damp towel and..” she placed the wet fabric to the bit of paper, holding it down firmly, “You hold it on there for either half a minute or a full minute.”

She tapped her fingers on her knee, keeping her eyes on the towel in hand. Widowmaker watched her, to her this idea was stupid. A toy for children, and her twenty six year old girlfriend was so excited and enveloped by this. “Time’s up!” Came the cockney accent, followed by the removal of the towel. Almond eyes darted up to Widowmaker’s face, a smile beaming on her face “Okay love, now here’s the fun part. Watch.” She nodded down to the blue hand in hers, the taller woman looked down and watched as Tracer slowly started to peel the soaked piece of paper away. 

“You peel this away, aaaaaaand there! Designs on the skin! Pretty cool huh?” Widowmaker lifted her hand up, looking at the small spider that now adorned her skin. Eyebrows raised slightly in surprise, why did she enjoy this so much? This thing which she believed idiotic was suddenly the most interesting object she’s experienced. A laugh brought her attention away from her thoughts, “See? I told you it was fun! C’mon, I want one too.” 

Tracer handed the scissors and the sheet to Widowmaker, pointing to a larger design of a tiger. “Okay I want this one, right..” The smaller woman grabbed her shirt and pulled it up over her head, her chronal accelerator lighting her pale skin with a soft blue. She turned so her back was facing the Frenchwoman and she pointed with her thumb to her shoulder “Right on my shoulder.”

Widowmaker nodded, “Oui ma  chérie.” She cut out the design, looking it over cynically. It wasn’t as cool as her spider, but whatever made her girl happy. Peeling off the plastic and sticking it to the smaller girl’s shoulder “Here?” Tracer gave a nod and a thumbs up, “Perfect love.” The woman grabbed the wet towel and planted it above the piece stuck to her lover’s skin, pressing down firmly. “Half a minute remember.” 

The Frenchwoman rolled her eyes and gave another nod “I know Lena, I understand how this works.” Tracer lifted her hands up “Easy love, I just wanted to make sure.” After a few more seconds of silence, Widowmaker pulled the towel away and took a hold of the damp paper, slowly peeling it away. The design was now transferred to the Brit’s skin, she turned her head to look over her shoulder “How does it look? Does it look as awesome as it should?” 

“Mm, it’s not as “awesome” as my spider.” Came a reply, the smaller girl spinning around to face her “Umm, my tiger is so much better than that dinky little spidey. You think you can one up me?” A smile grew on Widowmaker’s face, reaching for the sheet of designs and looking over them “Oh I  _ know  _ I can one up you.”

The sheet was ripped away from the taller woman’s hands, the Brit holding it close “Well you can’t one up me if I have all of the sheets!” Widowmaker tilted her head “Sheets?” Tracer gave a nod “Yes, sheets. I bought like, five of them?” The Frenchwoman gave a solemn nod, slowly standing up from the couch and walking away.

“Uh,  Amélie where are you going?” Tracer tilted her head, watching as the taller woman’s pace quickened. “You left the bags by the door  chérie!” The Brit’s eyes went wide, stumbling off the couch and dashing forward 

“Shit! You get away from those, they’re mine!” 

“Non! They’re mine! I’m gonna put all of them on!” 

 

It’s a good thing Tracer bought so many sheets. 


	6. Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some late night thinking and drinking for our neighborhood sniper

By the blurry, bright figures on the clock. Lena could make out it was 3 o’clock, the witching hour. Being the superstitious person she was, she just rolled over to fall asleep again, not wanting to accidentally see some kind of weird beast lurking in the dark. She reached out, expecting her hand to land on the other person she shared this bed with.  
Her fingers curled into lukewarm bed sheets, she ran her hand over them to make sure she was feeling right. Lifting her head and lazily opening one eye she found that her bedmate was not beside her, “Amélie?” she mewled sleepily. She sat up, hair a wild mess from her fairly active sleep, eyes focusing on the bedroom door. Lena always liked to make sure she kept that door closed, just in case an intruder came in she could hear the door open. 

Apparently she didn't this time, for now it was a crack open and a small sliver of light seeped into the room. Her legs kicked the remaining sheets off of herself and she swung them over the edge of the bed, standing up with a small groan. Head a little dizzy from the change in altitude, but she just shook that off. The small brunette staggered towards the door, blinking against the light that poured into the room when she opened it.  
Her ears pricked at the sound of shuffling and a clink of glass coming from the living room. She followed the noise out, stopping at the threshold of the room. Hands gripping her large sleep shirt, “Amélie?” 

The sniper turned her head towards the smaller girl, stationed in an overstuffed armchair. Bottle of wine in hand and a cigarette smoldering in the ashtray, she took a swig of the alcohol and gave the Brit a small smile. “What are you doing up chérie? It's late.”  
Lena stepped further into the room “I was about to ask you the same thing love..” Amélie picked up the cigarette and gave a dismissive wave, placing it between her lips “It's nothing, I just couldn't sleep.” She muttered, taking a long drag. The Brit shook her head “It's not nothing Amélie. You're smoking, you only smoke when something is troubling you.”

She walked towards the woman stationed in the chair, climbing into her lap and nuzzling under her chin. Giving periwinkle skin a few tender kisses before she lifted her head and looked into deep ochre eyes, “You can tell me love, it's okay.”  
Those eyes slowly started to get watery, taking another long drag of the cigarette before planting it back in the ashtray, “Non chérie, it's alright. Just, over thinking.” Smoke rolled out from between the woman’s deep purple lips, resting her elbow on the arm of the chair and placing her temple against her forefinger. Looking back up at the heavy lidded almond eyes staring at her, a weak smile pulling on the corners of her mouth. “Why don't you head back to bed mon tresor?”

Lena shook her head after a few moments of them staring each other down, “Well screw that. I'm gonna sit with you, even if you don't tell me anything.” She snatched the bottle of wine and placed it to her lips, taking a small swig. Letting out a grunt as she swallowed it all down, taking a small breath afterwards. Amélie stared up at her, her small smile gone but she didn't look angry. She let out a defeated sigh and nodded “Oui ma chérie, whatever you wish.”  
The Brit gave a triumphant nod, turning herself so that she could kick her legs over the arm of the chair and nestle her head in the crook of the widow’s neck. Amélie took the bottle and knocked back a large amount of alcohol, resting her cheek on the top of her smaller lover’s head.

They sat like that, taking sips from the bottle and being in silence together. A small amount of smoke had filled the room due to the Frenchwoman’s smoking, Lena didn't mind though. Before her slipstream accident she had picked it up so she was used to it, luckily she was able to kick it and hasn't touched a cigarette ever since. She did continue to drink though, and she wasn't some lightweight. The brunette had quite the reputation in the pubs around London, ten shots in under ten seconds. Of course her ability to mess with time had some kick to it but, what can yah say.  
Amélie though, she was taking very very large swigs of the wine. Almost like it was water and she was a beached fish, Lena was still fairly sober but the Frenchwoman was slowly succumbing to the liquor. It had been no more than forty five minutes when the blue-skinned woman broke the silence. 

“Do you sometimes wonder what I was like before Widow?” She ended her sentence with a hard drag of a new cigarette, holding it between her middle and forefinger. Lena rolled her head and looked up at her girlfriend with a confused look, “Uh, sometimes. Why?” A deep sigh, smoke being forced from her lungs before she answered again, looking wistfully at the smoldering end of the cigarette.  
“I don't remember much from before, just milky skin and raven hair… and a man..” Her voice shook at the end of her sentence, placing the end of the cigarette between her lips before looking off into a corner of the room. “I was, normal then. How could you…” Amélie cleared her throat, “I don't understand chérie.. How could you stay with something like me?”

Lena’s brow furrowed, staring up at the taller woman. She spun in her lap so that was facing her, hands resting on the woman’s broad shoulders. “Because I.. I love you Amélie. That's why I stay.” The Frenchwoman scoffed, taking another drag of the cigarette before flicking it into the ashtray beside the other butts that had accumulated in there. “I'm amazed Lena, you probably would have loved me more when I was normal. I mean, look at me.” She snapped her eyes down to the girl in her lap, a snarl planted on her face. “I'm a mess… you don't deserve a mess chérie. You deserve normal.”  
A laugh made her eyes narrow, the Brit giggling softly. “Yeah? So what? So am I.” She gripped the hem of her shirt and lifted it up, the chronal accelerator that was anchored deep in her chest pulsed baby blue. “I have a hole in me chest and I can rewind myself in time, if this thing gets damaged I'm gone in time for who knows how long.” Another giggle and her right hand lifted, planting itself on the taller woman's cheek, “I don't want normal love, I didn't fall in love with normal.”

Amélie’s eyes were shimmering with tears again, “What did you fall in love with?” she whispered. Pressing her head into the soft touch of her lover’s hand, breathing out gently when the girl’s thumb started to sweep slowly over her cheek bone. Those soft eyes staring down at her, a tender smile on pale pink lips, “I'll tell you what I fell in love with.” Lena cooed, shifting herself and resting her other hand on the other side of the woman’s face. 

Holding it tenderly as she spoke, “I fell in love with a woman, a dangerous woman. One sharp as a knife and quicker than a bullet. I fell in love with a wicked smirk and a heavy accent, trust me that accent was hot as hell.” Amélie gave a weak laugh, Lena following with a small smile. “I fell in love with purple hair, almost as tall as me and one of my favorite colors in a sunset. I fell in love with soft blue skin, decorated with jet black tattoos.”  
Her hands ran from the woman’s sharp cheeks to her silky hair, running her fingers through it slowly. A content sigh came from Amélie, closing her eyes slowly as Lena continued “I fell in love with eyes that looked like solid gold and could shoot daggers if needed.” The Frenchwoman purred in delight in reaction to the Brit’s soft touches on her face, neck, and scalp. The smaller girl stopped, watching her lover with a smile, Her hands framing Amélie’s face. 

The silence prompted Amélie to open her eyes, resting her hands on top of the ones on her face. Searching the almond colored eyes in front of her, “I fell in love with you Amélie, with Widowmaker, not who you used to be.. Please, never doubt that.” Tears slowly started to run down discolored cheeks, but a wide smile contradicted them. 

Lena wiped the droplets with her thumbs as Amélie let out a hoarse laugh, shaking her head in the girl’s hands. “Jamais, I will never doubt that.” She linked her fingers with Lena’s, looking up at her with wet, soulful eyes “Je t’aime, Lena.” The Brit smiled wide and leaned in, pressing her lips firmly to the Frenchwoman’s which tasted of fine wine and cheap cigarettes. She pulled away, petting the woman’s cheeks with her thumbs “I love you too Amélie.” 

Amélie sniffled softly as she looked up at her lover, looking so weak and vulnerable in her arms, but to hell with that. She was fine with being whatever with Lena. The Brit yawned softly and rested her forehead against the taller woman’s, eyelids heavy. The sniper cleared her throat and turned her head, placing the empty bottle of wine on the table beside the chair. She wrapped her arms around the smaller girl and stood, Lena’s arms wrapping around her neck.  
They walked back to their room, Amélie slowly laying Lena back down into bed before climbing in beside her. The small Brit curled up into her side, laying one arm over her midsection. “Goodnight Amélie..” She yawned out, the Frenchwoman let out a small yawn as well as she nodded. “Bonne nuit, mon cœur.”


	7. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, another one. This time with Tracer.

“Goddd, I’m bloody exhausted.” Lena groaned as she leaned against the wall next to her apartment door, Amélie digging in her purse for her keys. Once she found them she smiled up at the sluggish Brit and leaned over, kissing her lightly on the forehead “Well chérie, you can take a nap while I cook dinner. How does that sound?” Lena smiled wide, nodding happily at the idea of sleep. “Yes please, now open the door already love!” Amélie popped open the door and Lena pushed past her, quick walking her way back to their bedroom. The Frenchwoman gave a small laugh, shaking her head as she made her way to make something for them to eat when the Brit awoke. 

As soon as Lena got to the bedroom she yanked off her pants and unclipped her bra, tossing both articles of clothing off somewhere into a corner. She dived onto the bed with a content sigh, sinking into the soft material of the mattress and pillows, pulling the blankets over her. She grabbed onto a pillow and pulled it into her body, cuddling into it before slowly dozing off.

Her dream started out alright, she was with everyone before Overwatch disbanded. Shooting the breeze with Angela and prodding fun at Winston, she was laughing and having a grand time. Just as she was in the middle of telling a joke, everything started to crumble and fall away. Their old base soon turned into a deep black void, and the floor under her soon gave way. She was now falling into this empty space, arms reaching in front of her for the last bit of building that was still above her. 

Just as soon as she had started to fall she stopped, her head snapped around. Searching for anything in the darkness, a few flashes of light started to fly past her. She shook her head and held onto it with her hands, closing her eyes “No no no, not again! Please! I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to be lost again!” She felt her throat tighten, hot tears welling in her eyes and running down her cheeks. She let out a loud scream, “I DON’T WANT TO BE ALONE!”

“Lena!” Her eyes snapped open at the sound of her name being called, she was back in her bed at home. Amélie was sitting beside her on the bed, gripping her shoulders firmly. Her eyes wide and filled with fear, they sat for a few seconds in silence. Lena’s bottom lip quivered and tears streamed down her face, her hands coming up and pushing hard into her eyes. Letting out a loud whimper, her knees drawing in closer to her body. 

Amélie scooped her up and pulled her into her lap, petting her head tenderly and cooing softly in her ear. “Oh chérie it’s alright, I’m here. It’s okay.” Lena trembled with hard sobs, burying her face in her girlfriend’s neck and curling her fingers into her shirt. The taller woman felt the girl’s tears smear on her skin, her arms just wrapped tighter around the smaller Brit. Petting her and humming softly, rocking back and forth to sooth her. 

After a few moments of this, Lena lifted her head and wiped at her eyes. Sniffling as Amélie lifted her chin up, looking up at soft golden eyes. Her face was soon peppered with tender kisses, a soft whine filling her throat as she tried to keep tears at bay. “Lena, what did you dream about?” The question just brought more tears to her eyes, she swallowed back a sob and took a breath before speaking, “I… I was lost again. E-Everything was fine at one moment, it was before Overwatch disbanded. We were all having so much fun.. Then it all fell away, a..and I was falling into a void..” 

The Frenchwoman slowly combed her fingers through the girl’s hair, listening to her talk about her dream. She sighed lightly and leaned down, gently pressing her lips to Lena’s. She pressed back hard, gripping onto the woman’s shirt tighter, trying to remind herself that this was all real. The plush feeling of her lover’s lips, her soft humming, the fingers in her hair. Amélie pulled back gently, staring down at her “You’re alright now ma chérie, I’m here. You’re here, everything is real. You’re real.” She muttered as Lena let out shaky breaths, nodding and resting her forehead against the other woman’s.

Amélie continued to slowly rock, running her fingers along the girl’s back and tapping every few seconds to prove that Lena was actually there. They stayed like this for twenty minutes before Lena let out a deep breath and looked up at the woman she was clinging to, a small smile resting on her lips “Thank you, I.. thank you..” The taller woman gave a nod, smiling back. “Of course Lena, anything.” She glanced at the clock on the bedside table, “I need to go finish dinner, if you want I can make you a cup of tea maybe? You can stay here.”

Lena shook her head violently, tightening her grip on Amélie’s shoulders. She looked up at her with wide eyes, “No.. please.. Don’t leave me alone love.” Amélie looked down at the girl in her lap, smiling gently. “Of course chérie, here.. Let me get up.” Lena hesitantly climbed out of the taller woman’s lap, watching as she stood and grabbed the heavy comforter. She wrapped it around the girl’s shoulders before easily picking her up bridal style, “I’ll just set you up on the couch. That way, I can see you and you can see me. Alright?” 

The Brit nodded softly, curling up in the woman’s arms as she walked out of the bedroom and back towards the living room. Once there, she was set on the couch. The taller woman leaning down and giving the girl another soft kiss on the forehead, “I’ll be right back chérie.” She muttered before heading into the kitchen, filling a kettle with water and placing it on the stove. Grabbing her cell phone she headed back into the living room, climbing onto the couch and patting her lap once more “Come here mon cœur. I want to know what you want on your pizza.”

The smaller girl slowly climbed into the Frenchwoman’s lap, snuggling into the crook of her neck. She looked up a little confused, “Pizza? I thought you said you were cooking?” Amélie nodded, wrapping an arm around Lena’s shoulders and rubbing her upper arm gently “I know, but I decided that pizza would be better. Cooking would keep me away from you too long and you don’t need that right now.” 

A wide smile grew on Lena’s face, new tears on the verge of spilling from her eyes but she wiped them away with her wrists. She nodded and curled up closer to the taller woman, placing some of the comforter on top of her “Then, just cheese would be fine love.”Amélie tilted her head and cupped her cheek, “Are you crying again Lena?” The Brit gave a giggle, pressing her cheek into her lover’s hand “Yes? No? They aren’t tears of sadness love. This just.. Means so much..” 

Amélie gave a tender smile, leaning down and kissing into brunette curls. “As I said ma chérie, anything for you.” She then waved her phone slightly in her hand, turning it on and unlocking it “So, you said just cheese, oui?” Lena nodded and rested her head back onto the Frenchwoman’s shoulder, lying one of her hands on her stomach. “Oui..” 


	8. Just A Little Somethin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hitting some Talon!Tracer AU, because I wanted some dom Tracer

They really weren’t supposed to be in the same room together, and if they were, bullets were supposed to fly from both sides to try to off the other one. The little Brit worked for the Talon organization while the Frenchwoman worked for Overwatch. They should be sworn enemies.

Lena let out a sharp hiss, pulling her head back from the bit of cloth that was being dabbed against the cuts on her face. “Jeez love! You didn’t tell me it was gonna sting so much!” Amélie sighed and pulled her hand away, shaking her head “You should know it would sting, chérie. It’s antiseptic.” The Brit grumbled angrily and wiped at her mouth with her arm, “..I knew that..”

A small laugh came from the taller woman and she shook her head, lifting Lena’s head and pressing the cloth to different cut. The Talon agent flinched but remained still, looking to the side with her brow furrowed. Amélie finished cleaning the wounds on the girl’s face before gently placing small bandages over them, placing a larger one on a particularly large gash on Lena’s forehead. 

Once done with that, she leaned down and gave the girl’s forehead a soft kiss. Placing a hand on top of her head and running her fingers through curly chestnut locks. Lena looked up at the Overwatch agent and smiled wide, leaning forward into the petting. “Pauvre petit chiot..” Amélie giggled, removing her hand. 

Lena wrinkled her nose in a smile, “You’re the puppy.” She jumped off the edge of the table that she was sitting on as Amélie walked away, heading to the small kitchenette of her current hideaway. Planting her hands on the counter and tapping her fingers on the wood of it, humming as she began to think. The Brit slowly sneaked over and pressed up against the taller woman from behind, grabbing at her hips lightly. 

“You patched me up pretty good here love, I think I outta repay you..” She trailed off as she reached up and pushed Amélie’s hair to the side, leaning up and biting gently at the nape of the woman’s neck. A shudder ran up Amélie’s back, her ears getting a little heated. Her head turned so she could look back at the smaller girl, a brow arched in question. 

The Brit smirked and pulled the taller woman’s hips back firmly, grinding against her slowly. “C’mon love, somethin quick?” Her hands slowly started to trail away from Amélie’s hips, one making it’s way up along her stomach and the other tracing slowly down her thigh. Lena pressed her mouth back against her lover’s neck, mumbling between each kiss and nibble against smooth skin. “Or, maybe something a little… rougher?” She ended her sentence with a small push forward, pinning the taller woman’s hips against the counter.

Amélie let out a small gasp, planting her hands on the counter to steady herself. Her cheeks now burning bright red as she felt the Talon agent’s hand slip up under her shirt, nails slowly dragging along her skin. She shuddered as she felt Lena’s tongue slowly run its way along her neck, stopping to give a harder bite at the slope of it. A moan bubbled up into her throat, making her cheeks grow bright red. 

Her ears pricked at the small growl that came from Lena, a chuckle soon following. “So you do like it a little rough huh?” The hand that was making its way down Amélie’s thigh slid its way over to the button of her pants, slowly unfastening it as the brunette began to nip and lick against her neck. Fingers beginning to teasingly slip their way into the taller woman’s pants. 

“Maybe you like to be teased a little too? Take it nice and slow until you’re just beginning to get off.” Lena cooed against pale skin, sucking a small bruise into it as she finally fully got her hand into the woman’s pants. Circling the tip of her pointer finger against the soft fabric of her panties. Continuing this slow pattern before jerking her finger down, just barely getting to where Amélie needed her. “Lena…” she hissed out, meaning to sound at least a little bit threatening. 

The girl reached with her free hand and wrapped her fingers into silky hair, tugging back hard. Forcing Amélie’s head back as she growled against her skin, “What was that love? Getting a little impatient?” She bucked her hips into her backside, her fingers slowly pressing harder into the woman’s flesh. “Where’s your manners?” The Overwatch agent gave a needy whine, chewing on her bottom lip before muttering “P-Please?” she felt a smile grow against her skin. 

“Good girl..” Her fingers dipped low, slowly beginning to circle around Amélie’s clit from outside of her panties. She let out a satisfied groan, pushing her hips forward against her lover’s hand.  Beginning to gently grind against the girl’s fingertips, her cheeks flushed bright red and eyes lidding halfway. Lena stood behind her, smirking impishly at the woman’s reactions. “You must be so pent up love, how long has it been since you’ve really had a little fun?” Amélie let out a huff, trying to think over the pleasure. 

She finally spoke after a few long moments, “A..A while. M-more. Chérie.. I want..more.” Each word was let out in a pant, her hips rolling slightly. A chuckle reached her ears as the girl’s fingers slowly slid the now heavily damp panties to the side, “So needy.” Lena purred out as she began to run her fingers along Amélie’s length, thumb placing firm pressure to her clit while her forefinger began to circle against her slick entrance. The taller woman shuddered in her grasp, hips bucking eagerly. She bit down gently on her shoulder as she began to slowly press her finger deep into her lover, her thumb beginning slow but firm circles on Amélie’s clit. 

The Frenchwoman let out a loud gasp as the smaller girl slipped into her, her fingers curling into the countertop. A satisfied noise rose from Lena as she began to thrust her finger at a steady and slow rate, Amélie was already so worked up her body shook hard in the Talon agent’s hold. Moaning out loudly as the pace started to pick up and her hair was tugged back firmly, eyes closing tight as she rolled her hips in time with the girl’s thrusts. Another gasp slipped from her lips as Lena began to push her middle finger in alongside the first finger. 

Amélie curled into herself, letting out a loud whine as her knees buckled inwards. Lena pushed up firmly from behind, pinning her against the counter as her hand in the woman’s hair moved to take a hold of her hips. Rolling her against her fingers as she mumbled into her ear “Easy love, easy.” One of the Frenchwoman’s hands reached down and gripped the Brit’s forearm firmly, pressing her hips harder into her hand. This made the brunette grin, her thumb pressing harder against the woman’s stiff clit.

“L-Lena… I.. M-Merde!” Her hips bucked forward once more, shaking as she neared her orgasm. The Brit smirked and began to slow her pace, “Oh? Should I slow down for you then love?” Amélie let out a desperate whine, shaking her head quickly as she tried to get back to the pace by snapping her hips. “Non! Non, s’il vous plaît. P-Plus forte..” The smaller girl’s pace picked back up, the hand on her lover’s hip tightening its grip to guide her a little. “Since you asked so nicely..” The taller woman moaned out loudly, leaning back into Lena.

Her hand still resting on the counter reaching back and curling into the hair on the back of the Talon agent’s head. Eyes snapped shut as she slammed her hips forward, nails digging into Lena’s arm as waves of pleasure finally crashed over her. Stars sparkling behind her eyes as her body shook and held onto the girl’s fingers tightly, letting out a high pitched groan as she felt Lena bite down on her shoulder firmly. The sharp pain jolting through her body and adding a bit more time to her orgasm, she felt the teeth remove themselves from her skin. 

Lena beginning to lick and kiss tenderly at the harsh red teeth marks as she muttered, “I’ve got you Amélie. It’s alright love.” Amélie slowly came down from her high to these soft words and tender touches. Fingers ghosting over her stomach and the pressure and full feeling slowly leaving her pants, becoming a tender hand on her lower belly. She panted softly as she looked back at the small brunette, soft eyes looking up at her. “I didn’t hurt you too bad, did I love?” 

She shook her head and smiled, slowly turning around to face the Talon agent. Opening her arms, “Non chérie. It was perfect.” Lena smiled and wrapped her arms around the woman’s waist, nuzzling under her chin and peppering her flushed skin with soft kisses. Languid arms wrapping themselves around her neck and a few weak kisses were planted to the top of her head.

They weren’t supposed to be in a room together, and if they were they were supposed to kill each other. But they just could never bring themselves to it.


	9. Holiday Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> henlo welcome back to this, a short chapter

Amelie Lacroix sat lounging on the living room sofa, book in one hand and glass of blood red wine in the other. An image of elegance, what with the almost sheer chemise she was wearing. Light music filled the air, a beautiful mix of piano and violin. It was nice having the apartment to herself, not saying her partner was a pain to be around, but the lack of noise was appreciated when she could get it.

That all stopped when the front door burst open and the short brunette darted into the apartment. Amelie’s eyes closed before slowly opening with a deep sigh, turning her head languidly towards the girl. A brow lifting in discontempt as Lena kicked off her shoes, holding onto her coat a little tight. Now it had gotten cold, being December and all, but to Amelie it wasn't  _ that  _ cold especially inside. 

Lena quickly walked into the living room, coat still on and trying to brush past the woman on the couch. Amelie sat up, putting her glass down and closing the book she was reading. Eyes narrowing on the smaller girl as she spoke out. 

 

“What, no kiss? How unlike you.” 

 

The Brit stopped in her tracks, chewing on her lip before skipping back to the older woman and leaning down to give the top of her head a quick peck. Smiling awkwardly as she tried to keep a firm hold on her jacket front, nodding lightly. Her nose was bright red from the cold and she seemed to have almost ran the entire way back to the house. 

 

“Sorry love, just not thinking straight today.” 

 

Amelie looked at the girl curiously, causing Lena to shift awkwardly under her gaze. She fumbled with her jacket before turning as quick as she could. 

 

“Welp gonna go to the room, see yah love!” 

 

Before she could get away Amelie reached forward and took a hold of the back of her jacket, tugging on it firmly so that she couldn’t get loose. Lena struggled against the grip and tried to free herself. Amelie just held fast, there was something weird going on with the girl and she was going to get to the bottom of it.

 

“You’re still wearing your-”

 

A muffled yip cut off her sentence. Amelie’s brows shot up and Lena slowly turned her head back towards the woman, a sheepish grin on her face. Just as she turned a small head popped out from the jacket, just under Lena’s chin. It was a corgi, a very small corgi. 

 

“Un chiot?!” 

 

Amelie almost sprang to her feet with her hand still gripping the Brit’s jacket firmly, her grip almost turning her knuckles pale. Lena wiggled a little and unzipped her coat, still holding onto the puppy. That sheepish smile stayed on her face as she began to speak, the corgi looking up at the purple woman. 

 

“Okay so, look luv. I didn’t.. Well I did. But I didn’t really, mean to buy the dog? It just happened.” 

 

The Frenchwoman was dumbfounded as she stared at the two, looking from Lena to the dog and then back again. Both the girl and the dog looked almost alike, both had an eager look to them. Her grip on Lena’s jacket went slack and she brought her hand up to the bridge of her nose, squeezing it as her eyes closed and she let out a deep sigh. 

 

“Why… why..?” 

 

Lena reached into her pocket as best as she could while keeping the dog still and grabbed a red bow. Slowly placing it on the top of the dog’s head before looking up at Amelie with a tiny smile and holding it out towards her. 

 

“Merry Christmas?” 

 

Amelie looked down at the dog in bewilderment, the puppy just responded with an excited yip and wiggled in an attempt to wag its stumpy tail. Her hands slowly reached out and took the animal from Lena, holding it and looking it in the eyes. It yipped again and licked at her nose, causing the Brit to laugh at the slightly shocked reaction the woman gave. Lena climbed over the couch and reached out, patting the dog’s head. 

She seemed so adamant about this creature, the little thing staring up at the taller woman with bright eyes. Never in her life did she think she would own a dog, they were dirty and loud and too energetic. Her eyes slowly slid back up to the brunette who started to bounce from side to side in anticipation, another small sigh. A small smile broke out on her face, pulling the dog close to her and scratching between the pup’s ears. 

Lena jumped up in excitement, pumping her fist into the air. She wrapped her arms tight around both Amelie and the pup, squeezing them as best as she could. After a few moments she loosened her grip so that the small dog wouldn’t get squished. 

 

“I knew you would like her! Okay, so we gotta think of a name. I was thinking Chips.”

 

Amelie rolled her eyes so hard that Lena thought they would fall from her skull. 

 

“We are not naming our dog after a food.” 

**Author's Note:**

> “Désolé ma chérie.” - "Sorry my darling."
> 
> Also this is my first WidowTracer fic, and I'm still trying to get the hang of French. So let's hope I don't end up messing up with something really simple.


End file.
